The Hopeless
by Maleficus
Summary: Lindsey and Faith in Wishverse Sunnydale. Post-Wish.


I wrote this for a thousand word challenge at evil_hands. The challenge is Alternate Universes.  
  
*Hopeless*  
  
Another meeting, and Lindsey McDonald, junior partner, can feel his breakfast threatening to come up. Lilah and Holland are poring over the latest reports from Sunnydale, looking sleek and satisfied at a job well done. Two Slayers dead, a town ravaged, and the Order of Aurelius converging on the Hellmouth- the senior partners are pleased, of course, but Lindsey can't shake the feeling that he's aiding and abetting the end of human reign on Earth. He's all for a little evil; it bought his way into college and law school, but even Lindsey isn't interested in seeing his species become chattel for vampires.  
  
It's easy enough to find the folder marked "Faith" down in the records room. Gorgeous girl, likes to dance and drink and fuck. Activated the moment Kendra was taken down and she's got a plan to pay back everyone that's ever hurt her. Lindsey spends ten minutes in the copy room with the file. He takes his lunch break early and doesn't come back.  
  
*  
  
Two weeks later, and Sportscenter is playing on the televisions inside the terminal. Lindsey would really like to watch it, because he can't remember the last time he was concerned with ball scores and not billing 80 hours a week researching demon law. He can't look up to see the screen, though, because he's too hung over to move.  
  
He's got no recollection of getting them to Logan this morning, which means he was probably still drunk at the time, but here he is anyway, sunglasses still on and Faith's head in his lap. She's sleeping the sleep of the dead and Lindsey's glad she's missing out on the worst morning after in the history of drinking. One last night of drinking and dancing because today they've got tickets for Sunnydale and their respective life expectancies from this point on are now a number approaching zero. They didn't fuck, Faith's other favorite activity, but it doesn't matter because both Faith and Lindsey dance like fucking anyway.  
  
*  
  
Faith sleeps in Lindsey's bed after he gets up for the day. She says she likes the way he smells. Lindsey spends his days researching, playing tired Watcher to Faith's dirty Slayer. The more he spies and reads and plans, the more hopeless it feels. Spike and Drusilla are cutting a bloody swath northward from San Diego towards Sunnydale, and Darla has procured the Scroll of Aberjian in order to resurrect and re-vamp Angelus. Without a soul this time. The Order of Aurelius in an unbroken line and in one spot, and Lindsey's getting real tired. He was a history major before he was pre-law, and he knows all about attrition. Didn't work South Vietnam and it won't for the humans of Sunnydale, either.  
  
Lindsey's accent is reverting and his suits are still folded in his suitcase. He just doesn't care anymore. He spends an hour in the shower and then dresses in the same jeans every day. He doesn't eat regularly and he and Faith are the same size now. He thinks maybe he should borrow her pants, because the only thing holding his own up are his hipbones and a prayer. Faith's tired too- she kills and kills and it doesn't make a difference.  
  
She sleeps until just after noon and then begins to slay again. Lindsey washes the blood out of her clothes in the sink while she's gone. Reads his dusty books. Tracks the bloodbath. Pretends he's more than just competent with a sword. Faith taught him how to use it properly because she was afraid he'd cut off a hand. Wolfram and Hart's not even looking for them. They don't really need to.  
  
*  
Lindsey may have let himself get caught. He's not sure anymore. All he knows is that he's still cold and tired and too thin but Spike fucked him last night and it was the best thing he's felt in a long time. Dancing is like sex and the line between fucking and rape has always been a little blurry for Lindsey and now he can't even remember where it was drawn in the first place. They don't let Angelus play with him but he's fair game for the rest of them and they know that Lindsey will do almost anything for a shower. At least he's clean.  
  
He's not sure why he's still alive, because it's not like Faith will give herself up for a hostage. She's not that kind of Slayer. She's the right kind of Slayer for the Hellmouth, because she's got a good idea of acceptable losses and isn't afraid to take out a human to save humanity.  
  
*  
  
They drag him out of his cell and into a room that's so Gothic it's almost cliché. They've got Faith and Lindsey can see relief in her eyes that it's finally over and someone else can stand up to the unconquerable tide of the Hellmouth for a while. The Order is standing all in a row, and they're staring intently at their prisoners. Candlelight illuminates their eyes and Lindsey gazes at them each in turn- red, blue, brown, green, blue and wishes they'd just open his throat already and let him sleep.  
  
"This one isn't afraid," Darla says, indicating Lindsey. He can't take his eyes off of her. She's so beautiful. Angelus notices and growls, but Darla holds him back. "Mine," she whispers huskily and takes a step forward, clenching fingers in Lindsey's hair, exposing his neck. When she bites him, he sighs in relief.  
  
The life flows out of him and Lindsey thinks that dying isn't so bad while the voices murmur around him.  
  
".It's my turn."  
  
".Spike? He's not worthy of turning a Slayer."  
  
".And you are? You've been dead for the last couple of months, mate."  
  
And then  
  
".I think I'll keep this one," as Lindsey's heartbeat flutters to a stop and he feels skin and warmth against his mouth. Drops of rubies against his tongue and he begins to drink. 


End file.
